75
by blangreck
Summary: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to 75. Here lies 75 Games, 75 Stories, and 75 Victors. Embark on a journey into the past and explore the lost history of each Victor. Embark into 75. R&R!
1. Intro

_"Victory attained by violence is tantamount to defeat, for it is momentary,"_

_-Mahatma Gandhi _

* * *

Define the word 'Victor.'

The dictionary will tell you that a victor is "a person who defeats an enemy or opponent."

The President would have told you that they are "individuals who emerge as the last man/woman standing in the arena."

Both are accurate.

Yet, if you look deeply into the history, into the origin, of the word, 'victor,' you will find more than a definition; you will find a number.

75.

Each Victor has a tale; each Victor has a past.

Are you ready to discover the untold tales of the Victors?

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark were the last.

Who were the first?

Brace yourself for...

75 Games.

75 Stories.

75 Victors.

* * *

**Welcome, folks, to 75. I'm only willing to take off on this epic saga if, and I hate to say it, I receive a decent amount of feedback/reviews. If I get reviews or PM's that encourage or want me to take on this epic saga, then I will. However, if this first chapter, gets not much attention, then the chances of me continuing decline. I'm not going to spend loads of time writing chapters that no one reads, period. If you do decide to follow/favorite/review, then thank you so much! Until the next update! **


	2. The First

_"The beginning is the most important part of the work,"_

_-Plato_

* * *

**NOTE: Hey guys I hate to ask for reviews but I've noticed this story is getting lots of views, but not many reviews or feedback. I write this for you guys :) I don't want to write for no one to read...I think this story has lots of potential. Let's make it happen! :D (I will not have a note like this every chapter)**

* * *

**Obsidian Solace, District One**

**The First**

**1.**

10...

I am among the first twenty-four.

9...

Sure, I never asked to be chosen for these...Games.

8...

But then again, none of us did; none of us _wanted_ to get chosen.

7...

Unfortunately, only one of us will emerge victorious.

6...

I have allies.

5...

We will work together.

4...

We will win.

3...

No, _I_ will win.

2...

This is it, Obsidian. This is where you make history.

1...

This is where you show the Capitol who the first Victor will be.

0...

Show time.

As the countdown hits the zero, I find myself sprinting through the tall, grass field, looking for my allies, Nero, Idris, and Chrome. During the training session, we had agreed to meet up at the center of the arena. Yet, as I sprint aimlessly through the field, my hopes of finding them slowly begin to decline.

Somewhere in the distance, an explosion rumbles, its shock wave spreading throughout the arena, throwing me off balance. Almost immediately, a cannon blares a single, short sound.

_What could have possibly caused an explosion so early?_

I see smoke rising in the air in the direction east of me. Some of the grass has caught on fire, and flames build up in the air. Ash covers the sky. Though, the grass field is so large it prevents me from seeing the sight of the explosion. I shake off the impact and continue to run.

A thousand horrid possibilities runs through my mind.

_Are they already dead? Were they caught in the explosion? _

"Obsidian, Nero, Chrome, help me!" I instantly recognize the shrill, feminine voice; it's Idris, my own District partner. An icy chill runs down my spine as I desperately follow the screams.

"I'm coming, Idris!" I holler into the air, hoping my reassurance comforts her. As I get closer to her screams, it become evident that there are other screams.

_Don't die on me, Idris._

Before I can shout out again, I emerge from the dense field, and enter a large clearing.

The sight in front of me is certainly one to behold.

In the middle of the clearing sits a large Cornucopia, made out of what seems to be pure gold. Inside of the opening lies a collection of various weapons and large crates. I assume that the crates are loaded with food. From swords to bows, the inner body of the gold-plated structure is the ultimate supply jackpot.

Surrounding the Cornucopia is a small village of twig houses and tents composed of worn tarp. It doesn't take me long to see the connection.

_Those are the houses we had to live in right after the rebellion failed_. _If any rebels had any hope of revenge, surely they must be discouraged by watching the Games right now. The Games are televised, aren't they?_

The other tributes amass in the clearing, not sure what to do. Those who have managed to acquire weapons show no interest in using them. Most throw light punches and kicks at each other, but the message is clear.

No one is intent on killing.

I could sit here and watch for days as my fellow tributes wrestle around on the ground. But that's not an option. Not yet ready to completely expose myself, I crouch low and scan the clearing for any trace of my allies. Idris, Nero, and Chrome are no where to be found.

_Where's Idris?_

That's when I spot her. Her distinctive braids of black hair give her away, and I almost have a leap of joy when I see she is still alive. That is, until I see the bulky figure looming over her. He shoves her to the ground and begins to draw his knife. I see Idris pleading for help as the boy merely laughs and closes in.

"No!" the word leaves my mouth before I can stop myself. However, most of the tributes are involved in their own fights and only a few raise their heads to glance at me.

I bolt towards the Cornucopia in hopes of finding a bow so I can...

_Am I really going to kill somebody in a Game? _

I shake my head.

_It's either Idris or her attacker. I'd rather keep Idris._

As I near the glimmering metal rack full of bows, I bump into a small boy. The impact sends him sprawling to the ground. I quickly grab the bow and load an arrow, ready to shoot. As he turns his head of fluffy orange hair to look at me, I easily recognize him as the boy from District Four. Silently, he looks up into my eyes, hoping his death will be short and painless.

_Just release the arrow! That's all it'll take!_

I stand motionless, with the bow quivering in my hand.

_He's unarmed, how can I just kill him?_

A few seconds later, the boy sees his opening for escape and scrambles to his feet and darts off into the village.

_I'm weak! I couldn't kill an unarmed opponent!_

Around me, screaming and fighting is still going on. Chaos has unraveled itself upon us. Several cannons sound in the air and I see fallen bodies covering the crimson-stained soil. It's clear, now, that the intent on killing is very real.

There's no time to lose; Idris is still in trouble. I slowly make my way to Idris's offender, who is still closing in on her. She tries to get up but fear paralyzes her and holds her in place. I knock an arrow in the bow and shout out to the older boy.

"Stop! If you so much as lay a finger on her, I'll send this arrow straight into your chest!" Idris catches my gaze and manages a weak smile. Her once beautiful face is now a collection of bruises and bloodied wounds.

"You don't have the guts. No one does. I could kill everyone in the arena and no one would stop me!" I now remember that the boy is from District Five. Lawson, I recall his name to be. He grins at me and then moves toward Idris. He hauls her upright and then positions her in a choke-hold, pressing his knife against her neck. Idris yelps in pain as he tightens the grip on her airway.

"I told you not to lay-"

"Oh please, we both know you're bluffing. Like I said, if you were serious, you would have killed me by now."

"That's not-"

"And you know what? I think I'll kill you last, just so you can watch each and every one of these pathetic kids die, starting with your girlfriend right here."

I watch helplessly, shaking with the bow in my hands.

_Hurry! Shoot! What are you waiting for?_

I look at Idris one last time and shake my head.

_I'm sorry._

A tear escapes her eye, trailing down her cheek and then onto the earthen ground below.

Lawson smiles and in one swift motion, jerks the knife across her flesh. It cuts through her jugular and vein spurts out of the wound, spraying like a fountain.

He drops the lifeless corpse of my district partner and the cannon signals another death-her death. In moments, Lawson makes his way to the Cornucopia and jumps onto the back of the boy from District Eleven, wrestling with him. I drop to the ground, devastated by what I've just seen.

What seems like hours of mourning only lasts for seconds. I knew Idris for years, and this, this monster killed her in the blink of an eye. Tears stream down my face and dampen the ground below me.

_How could I have taken these Games so lightly? How am I supposed to win?_

"Obsidian! There you are!" I look up to find a very weary looking Nero hovering over me, panting for air. A massive cut in his arm leaks out blood, and I wonder how he can possibly still be alive.

"Nero? Where's Chrome?" I mutter, still trying to handle the death of Idris. From the way his facial expression changes, I know the answer isn't good.

"There was an explosion. You probably heard it. When I went to go check it out, I found Chrome's token, her diamond necklace, hanging from a tree nearby. She must have stepped off early or something. That's the only explanation to the explosion I can think of." Even as he retells the story, I notice he is fighting back tears. The friendship he possessed with Chrome was even greater than that of mine and Idris.

"Where's Idris?" He inquires, hoping that our alliance is still somewhat intact.

He notices the body before I am forced to answer.

"Oh my God, Obsidian. What happened?" Those are the last words I ever hear uttered from my friend. The last words I ever hear from an ally.

"I happened." Nero has no time to react. Lawson plunges his knife into Nero's stomach, and he falls face first onto the ground. The third and final cannon signalling my friends' deaths sounds.

"You're insane! I'll kill you!" The sorrow in my heart has been replaced by hatred. Hatred for the psycho who has taken the lives of two of my friends. I will avenge them.

"You said that last time. Look where it's gotten you, now. I think I'll just end you now!" And with a sudden movement of his wrist, he brings down the knife, slicing the ground as I barely roll out of the way. I land a kick to his upper jaw and two of his rotten teeth fly out of his mouth. He's sent flying back into the ground. Blood pours from his mouth. Nevertheless, he smiles, and rises again, preparing to confront me once again. I crawl over to the bow and load it with an arrow. At the same moment, Lawson grabs my leg and laughs madly.

_What can possibly be funny to you?_

I notch the arrow back and aim it directly at his head.

"Go on then! Kill me!" And that's exactly what happens. The arrow streaks right through the air and impales Lawson's forehead. His grip on my leg loosens and I shake the lifeless hand off of me. Even in death, he keeps a smile on his face. The cannon blares.

And as I stand in the clearing of the Cornucopia, I stare at all of the corpses, wondering how the Capitol could possibly find this entertaining.

Perhaps their joy lies not in our deaths, but in the monsters we become.

Thirteen bodies.

Eleven of us left.

Only one can win.

"This is for District One! I will win for District One! I will be the Victor!" I shout out as my voice echoes throughout the village. I can hear whimpers in the shadows. I can hear pleas and prayers.

I can hear my name being chanted in District One.

I can hear the Capitol on their feet, chanting for me.

Chrome, Idris, and Nero will _not_ have died in vain.

I _will _be the Victor.

I _will _be the first.

* * *

**Well guys, there you have it-The first victor, Obsidian Solace. This was his bloodbath scene, which is pretty obvious. And by the way, all of the victors I will be writing about are from the verse of the FanFiction author, BurningStars. Her blog on his profile has all of the victors and their stats. Check out her profile for two really well written SYOT stories! Let me know how you guys liked this first segment! Please read and review guys!**


	3. The Runner

_"The shell must break before the bird can fly,"_

_-Tennyson_

* * *

**Avery Helder, District Ten**

**The Runner**

**2.**

"She went into the tower! Follow me!"

The footsteps and voices get closer every passing second.

Panting for air, I turn from the door and bolt up the stairwell.

_Run faster, Avery. _

I can hear voices calling for me. Unfriendly voices.

"You can't run forever, Ten!" shouts the boy from Four. He's right; the tower only goes so high. Eventually, the stairs will reach an end. But I have a better chance going up than down.

The footsteps stop.

_Have I lost them?_

Suddenly, I hear a loud thump, followed by a click.

They have locked the doors. They are going to flush me out. I am trapped.

Someone speaks up and I peer over the edge.

"Stay here and make sure no one gets in or out, understand?" orders the boy from Four.

"Yeah, yeah. Just go make it quick." replies the boy from Six.

"Shut up, I'll take as long as I want."

"Well, we need to find the guy from Eight; I haven't seen him since the bloodbath. Plus, I want to kill the girl from Three." Guilt fills my body as I listen to the two, plotting to kill my fellow, innocent, tributes.

The boy from Six plops himself down against the wooden door. I can see he wields a spear with a blood-stained tip.

_The blood of my very own District partner_. I may not have talked to Royce that much, but he was my partner, nevertheless, so I feel a trace of remorse for him.

"Once we take out this scum from Ten, the rest will be a breeze." With that, the boy from Four starts up the steps, a dagger in each hand, heading straight for me.

I speed up the spiraling steps, determined to reach the top of the tower. I may not know what lies up there, but surely it is better than what fate awaits me and the bottom. I dart up the steps, intent on reaching the top of the tower. Yet, no matter how many steps I scale, the top seems to be getting no closer. I stop several times to catch my breathe and drink the water in my backpack. The fact that there are no rails force me to take extra caution. The last thing I would want is to make it this far only to have it all end by a single misstep.

When I peer over the edge again, the boy from Six is but a mere speck. However, the boy from Four is no where to be seen. Before I have time to turn around, a knife whizzes through the air and skims my cheek, drawing blood.

_That was a close one._

When I turn around, I see Four standing only meters away with a snarl forming on his face. I have no idea how he has reached me so fast, but that is the least of my worries. He holds another blade over his shoulder, readying to launch it. With a slight flick of his wrist, it comes hurling at my face. Though, this time, I have time to react. I hunch over and turn around right as the knife buries itself into my backpack.

_That was an even closer one_.

"You slippery bastard. I don't need knives to kill filth like you, anyway," he says through clenched teeth. His fists curls up and he strides up the stairwell, covering the space between us too quickly for my liking.

I contemplate running, but I can only run for so long. No, if I ever want to see my family again, I have to stand up for myself. No more running.

But I've never killed anyone. Then again, that's what the Victor from One must have thought last year before he killed someone. He killed two people, though. I haven't killed anyone. Not yet, that is. This is all the Capitol's fault; if these wretched Games didn't exist, nobody would have to die. But it's too late to blame them. If I die, I can only blame myself.

The boy from Four is about to strike when I take off my backpack and pull out the knife. I wave it around in the air, hoping he takes the bait. He stops in place.

"Ha! You can't kill me with _that_! How pathetic!" He scoffs at me and then proceeds. I chuck the dagger at him and he simply moves to the side, but immediately after, I muster all of my strength and hurl the backpack at him. This time he has no time to react, and the projectile hits him square in the chest. His smug grin disappears as he is throw off balance.

"I didn't plan on it, either," I reply, somewhat apologetically.

We both know what is going to happen before it does. His foot extends, hoping to find the ledge, but it misses completely, sending him over the staircase.

As he enters free fall, he looks up at me one last time. Yet, there is no trace of anger; there is no hope. I can see the fear in his eyes. The fear of death. He had a family too. He had friends. He had a life. A life I have taken away from not only him, but all that knew him. I can only pray that my parents are not watching. What would they think of a daughter who _killed_ another child, just in a stupid Game? What makes me any better than that boy? I'm a killer, just like him. A cold-branded killer- that's what I am. Even if it was out of self-defense, I know that the look he gave me will forever haunt my memory.

Ten seconds later, I hear the impact and the cannon signals his demise. I dare not look over the edge in fear of seeing the gruesome mess below.

Only four of us remain: me, the girl from Three, and the boys from Six and Eight. I know that the girl from Three is fairly intelligent, but I'm still surprised she has managed to make it this far. Then there's the boy from Eight, who I recall to be quite burly; no surprise there. Lastly, the boy from Six-the one who is still at the bottom of the tower. How could I have forgotten about him? He surely must have seen his ally falls to his death, right? No, I would hear him coming for me.

I find the courage to look over the edge, and I do, averting my gaze from the bloody mess that covers the floor. The boy from Six is gone. Perhaps he abandoned his ally. Since he is gone, my path out of here should be clear. I retrace my steps and start my decent down the spiral tower, hoping that the trip down fares better than that going up.

By the time I reach the bottom floor, my legs burn like they are on fire. I want so badly to stop where I am and take a break, but I know I can't isolate myself in here any longer. The boy from Six could come back at any moment, and I am not so confident that I can survive another encounter. That, and the remains of the boy from Four aren't exactly a pleasant sight.

As I motion to the door handle, a cannon blares, and I hear a girl scream outside. I swiftly open the door and brace myself for the sunshine. It blinds me for a few seconds and when I regain my vision, I see something I wish I hadn't. On the other side of the field, near the boathouse and Cornucopia, the boy from Six looms over the corpse of the girl from Three. Across from him, the boy from Eight wields a sword, screaming at the killer.

_No wonder Six didn't mind the other cannon._

"You monster! You killed her!" shouts the boy from Eight. His infuriated tone causes the other boy to back off. I assume that Three and Eight were allies. Otherwise, he wouldn't be as angry.

"I put her out of her misery! She was going to die anyway!" lashes back Six.

"Says you! I'm going to kill you!" With that, Eight advances towards Six, holding his sword in front of him.

I don't see anymore, though. I turn towards the dense forest and run, to get away from the killing. The battle cries get more distant with each stride I take.

Eventually, I can no longer hear them.

Then, a cannon. Two of us left.

I sprint even faster.

I run, hoping I can run right into District Ten; right into the arms of Ma and Pa.

I run, hoping to lose the horrible memories that haunt me.

I run, not once looking back.

* * *

**There you have it, the second Victor! I hope you guys enjoyed this fragment. Thanks for all that have reviewed so far! It means a lot and inspires me! Whether your review is super long or short, I appreciate it! Let me know what you guys think of Avery! And if you're new to this story, check out the first Victor chapter about Obsidian! Until the next update, peace out.**

**And remember, this is all possible thanks to BurningStars! Check out her profile!**


	4. The Protector

_"No one is useless in this world who lightens the burdens of another," _  
_ -Charles Dickens_

* * *

**Solara Maywell, District Three**

**The Protector **

**3.**

We're running out of time. _Fast_.

If we don't hurry up, we'll both be dead. And I don't plan on allowing that.

"Solara, they're coming!" Holt yells, "If you don't finish your plan soon, we're going to get killed!"

"I'll have you know, that I am fully-"

"Whatever! Just hurry up!" he shouts back. I run down the corridor with my ally trailing behind me. Behind us, I can hear the eerie screeching and growls of the beings pursuing us. In fact, they almost looked like _ghosts_. No, that's not possible; ghosts don't exist.

Anyway, Holt doesn't realize it yet, but if my plan fails, we will both surely die. There is no escape; I must protect us both.

"This way!"

I take a left down another hallway.

"Where are we going, Solara? Do you even have a plan?"

Now a right turn.

"I'm going to electrocute them!" I reply over my shoulder.

"With what? Your spool of wire?"

"Yes, that's what I plan on using."

"You're insane! You don't even have any source of electricity!"

"Holt, look around you! Don't you understand?"

"Well, I see lights and weird colors." I don't blame him for his lack of intelligence; District 9 isn't exactly known for producing smarter tributes. It's been statistically proven.

"No, no, no. You see, this arena is a circuit board!" As far as I know, I am the only tribute who has discovered that. After figuring out that the Cornucopia was shaped like an inductor, the rest of the puzzle pieces fell right into place.

"Wait, I think you're right! I see it now!"

"Have I ever been wrong?"

"Point taken. So how do you plan on electrocuting them?"

"We use the Power Supply, of course. Every circuit board has one." I point towards a large structure in the horizon, barely visible atop the walls surrounding us.

Eventually, we reach a large clearing where the Power Supply sits. Around it, sparks of electricity fly out, making it nearly impossible to get any closer. I break out the spool of wire and instruct Holt to watch the entrance. I know it's only a matter of time before the _ghosts_ return.

Even worse, another tribute could come; I don't want anyone to die by either of our hands. However, with only eight of us left, I feel that killing will become inevitable.

I spin the wire until it completely unravels itself, leaving the handle bare in my hands.

If I expose it to the electricity, the current will flow though the wire for the lasting duration of the Games. Sure, it will protect the both of us from enemies, but once the hallway is lit up, there's no going back. How will we feed ourselves? What the two of us make it to the Finale? Will I have to kill my only ally? I shake my head at such a brutal thought.

BOOM! The blaring of the cannon is followed by the all too familiar shrill of our previous pursuers. I turn my head towards Holt, and to my relief, he is still lining the entry way with wire. Those..._things_ have killed seven tributes now. I can only pray that, whatever these things are, they are not electricity prone.

"I'm done over here. By the way, who do you think died?" I give a shrug and then walk over to him. His casual tone surprises me; I know the boy who once vomited at the sight of death has changed. The bloodbath, these Games, and our competitors have caused a layer of thick skin to grow on our fragile past selves. These Games really do change people. It's just not right. Nobody deserves this.

"Let me take a look at the wire." He steps aside and I look over the wires that line all across the frame of the doorway and the walls. To anyone strolling by, they would appear quite obvious, but in the Hunger Games, nobody can afford to walk; anybody passing would surely move too quickly to take any notice of the lines. After all, the walls are made out of copper themselves. I nod approvingly at Holt and he smiles with pride. Anything that moves through the doorway will touch the copper when they step on the ground or brush on the wall. Either way, any contact with the wire will result in certain death, if not extreme paralysis.

"You know, Solara, I'm glad you chose me to be your ally." remarks Holt with a grin.

"I only choose the best." With that, I head back to the Power Supply, ready to throw the spool into the web of electricity. In a matter of seconds, the two of us will be completely safe, while isolated, from any other tributes. I never thought that I would utilize all of the knowledge acquired in school for the Hunger Games. Such a chaotic world we live in.

Suddenly, a scream echoes off the walls and I hear a cry of pain.

"Solara! Help!" I immediately swivel around and find myself facing something I can not understand.

In front of me, Holt lies on the ground, tackled by what appears to be...another Holt. As my mind grapples for an explanation, the two Holts wrestle on the ground. I can longer tell who the _real _Holt is. Crap.

"Stop, both of you!" I yell, drawing their attention.

"Solara! Kill it! It's one of the ghost things! Just look at it!" All I see are two Holts.

"No, Solara, don't listen to that thing!"

"Shut up, you bastard!"

The two Holts now stand on the wired floor, facing me, both wearing desperate looks on their faces. Which one is the real one? And how did that thing morph into Holt?

The Holt on the left motions towards me extending his hands.

"Come on, Solara! Can't you see it's one of _them_?"

I hold up the wire and hold it near the Power Supply, threatening to drop it. He holds up his hands and instantly backs off.

"Now, I'm going to ask you two some questions to determine who's the impostor."

"Solar-" starts Holt on the right.

"Shut up! Shut the hell up, right now! Now, how many kills did I get in the bloodbath?"

"0!"

"0!"

Too close to tell.

"What day in the arena is it?"

"Four!" replies Holt on the left. I turn to the Holt on the right and glare at him.

"That's your first strike! Now-"

"Solara, please-" pleads Holt on the right.

"I told you to shut up! Now, how many slices of bread did we eat this morning?"

"Three!" hollers Holt on the left.

"I didn't even get a chance to answer!" protests Holt on the right.

"That's your second strike," I say to the Holt on the right. Left Holt grins at Right Holt.

"Lastly, what was the name of your district partner?"

"Orchid Maisle," quickly replies Left Holt. Right Holt is again left with no chance to answer.

"Well, that's interesting."

"And why is that?" inquires the Left Holt.

"Because last time I asked, you didn't know Orchid's last name."

Before the shock begins to register on his face, I let go of the wire.

Holt scrambles out of the copper covered ground, but the impostor Holt has no idea what to expect.

Then it hits. It all hits him, or _it_; thousands of volts running through the fraud's body. Sparks fly left and right, zapping anything they come in contact with. The Left Holt's body shrivels up and transforms into something else-something not of this world. The human-like features are replaced by what appears to be a demented ghost. It lets out a final, ear-piercing scream and then disintegrates, spreading ashes across the floor.

Shape-shifting ghosts? The Gamemakers have really outdone themselves.

Exhausted, I drop down onto the floor and stare blankly into the sky above.

"You saved me." I had completely forgotten about my ally.

I turn my head to Holt; he lies on the ground, staring into the sky as well.

"It was nothing, really." I mumble, panting for air.

"No, it was something. You've protected me throughout these entire Games. I owe you, Solara. From now on, you don't have to protect me anymore. I'm your protector, now!"

In spite of my condition, I offer a smirk.

"That sounds like a good plan, Holt. Though, you really should have known your district partner's name."

* * *

**So...I'm back with another chapter! I apologize for the long update wait time. I had quite the number of projects to work on this week. I'll try to avoid update delays of more than five days. However, there are no promises. Anyway, let me know what you guys/gals thought of this chapter. If you're new, check out the other two victors first! Reviewing is greatly appreciated! **


	5. The Charmer

_"It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious,"_

_-Oscar Wilde_

* * *

**Slate Amare, District Two**

**The Charmer**

**4.**

"Slate, breakfast is ready!" yells my mother from the dining room. The pleasant aroma of pancakes envelopes my face as I rush down the stairs.

"Breakfast smells delicious, as always," I comment upon entering the kitchen, wearing a grin on my face. Though, despite my cheerful attitude, my mother is not inclined to return the gesture. She silently washes the dishes, muttering to herself. Even though what she says is inaudible, I understand what she is going through. Ever since last year, when Dad died, she has never been the same.

I plant a kiss on her cheek and then seat myself at the table. In front of me lies a feast fit for a king. Nothing will change the fact that my mom makes the best pancakes in District Two; that's for sure. I wolf down the meal in minutes and rise to excuse myself. As I head for the front door, my mother speaks up.

"Slate, today is Reaping Day." I'm caught off guard by her sudden statement. Nevertheless, I turn and offer her a smug grin.

"I know, mom. Don't you worry though, I won't get reaped."

"But if you do-"

"If I do, I will win for you. For us. For Dad. For everyone in this District."

"Slate, I love you. Please be careful out there."

"I love you too mom. And of course I'll be careful!" She moves towards me and I embrace her into my arms. She lets a few muffles sobs and buries her head in my shoulder. I feel my jacket sleeve grow damp with her tears, but in spite of the sorrow, I can see a slight smile grow on her face. Somewhere in there, I know that my old, fun-loving mother is still existent. It's up to me to bring her back out.

I shut the door behind me and enter the warmth of the sunlight. I can feel myself begin to sweat within a matter of seconds.

Living on the outer reaches of District Two has always been unfortunate. Walking to school takes me an hour each morning, and the Justice Hall is even farther. If only we could afford a car.

I stroll on the side of the gravel road, embarking from my house. I look out into the large wheat fields stretching across the land for miles. The closest house in view is at least half a mile away. Out here in the country side, where neighbors are scarce, resources are limited. We would have farmed on the free land if the Peacekeepers had not prohibited it. And yet, despite all of the fields, our District is based on Masonry. Sometimes, I imagine moving to District Eleven, where the fields stretch out forever. Where I could spend my time outside, and not in an overcrowded mine, wasting my time.

Far beyond the fields, and beyond the massive fence, I can make out a distinctive formation of structures. Buildings. The Capitol. The source of our suffering. The reason my dad is dead. But they will never change me. I will always be _me_. I'll never succumb to their ways of violence.

I look up at the clouds. I miss you, Dad.

"Watch where you're going, kid!" I am suddenly shoved backwards and sent sprawling into the dirt path. Looming over me is a man who appears to be in his mid thirties. I notice his white suit and realize he is a Peacekeeper. Frustration builds up inside of me, but I am wise enough to keep it there. Managing my biggest smile, I stand up and face him.

"Good morning, officer. It's a beautiful-"

"Cut the crap, kid. You should be at the Reapings."

"Well, actually, that's where I was headed-" The burly man cuts me off once more.

"You better hurry, then." He pulls out a whip to show he's not messing around.

I don't need anymore motivation. I sprint all the way to the Reapings, not daring to look back.

I reach the check-in desk with minutes to spare. When I get to the front of the line, the woman checking blood samples greets me. By the way she goes about her task, I can tell she has had enough of her job. I can't say I blame her, either.

"Hello, honey. I need you to stick out your arm," she politely commands. I nod in understanding and extend my arm. She produces a hand held device with a thin needle protruding from its tip. I wince as she injects it into my arm, and blood trickles from the hole it creates. The woman takes a look at her utility and then raises her head at me.

"Slate Amare. Age 14?"

"Yep, that's me."

"Ok, move along-"

"What's your name?" I inquire, hoping to lighten up her day.

"Me? Sonny, that's none of your-"

"Miss, I may never get to meet you again."

"Well, if you must know, my name is Juno."

"It was nice to meet you, Juno. Hopefully, I'll see you again next year!" I extend my hand, trying to be as inviting as possible.

Eventually, her frown disappears and is replaced by a slight smirk. All of a sudden, she firmly grabs my outreached hand and shakes it.

"It was nice to meet you too, Slate. May the odds be _ever_ in your favor." With that, she returns to her work and quietly hums to herself. It feels good to know that simple acts of kindness can completely change the atmosphere of one's day. My friends say I have some sort of charm, but I like to think that they are wrong. I am no charmer. I am merely a positive thinker. An optimist, if you will.

"Hey, Slate! There you are!" I instantly recognize the voice as Byron's. He hobbles over to me with my other comrades, Glade and Han, following behind him. I wave to the three of them as they make their way over.

"You're a ladies man, I'm telling you!" yells Byron. He must have observed my conversation with Juno.

"Hey, I was just trying to lighten up her day. I ain't flirting."

"But she's from the Capitol, why would you help her?" complains Glade.

"Why does it matter?" I ask questioningly.

"Nah, he's just a charmer, that's all," finishes Han, nodding to the other two. They nod their heads in agreement, although I shake my head.

"Guys, I'm not a _charmer_, I'm just a normal kid, just like the rest of you."

The three of them look at me as if I've gone insane. Then they all burst out laughing and I join in; this could very well be the last time I see them, anyway.

Soon we find ourselves standing in lines divided by age group. Away in the crowd, I can make out Byron's mop of brown hair, but Glade and Han are no where to be seen.

Our District Escort stands up on the stage of the Justice Hall, reciting the Anthem of Panem. Peacekeepers surround the entire area, ensuring no one escapes. As the escort rambles on, I try to remember her name. I can't quite recall her full name, but her first name is certainly Opus. Later, she presents us with a short film depicting the rebellion's failure to defeat the Capitol. No one pays attention to her the whole time, and many of us mingle among ourselves. Finally, she concludes the opening ceremonies, and proceeds with the actual Reaping.

Opus stands before two glass bowls. Glass bowls full of names. And somewhere in there lies my name.

"Ladies first!" she announces, seeming too excited for what she is doing.

The crowd grows silent as she digs her hand through the bowl, searching for a name. Searching for a victim.

Suddenly, she draws a slip of paper out from the container.

"Velma Ghassert!" she says, sending whispers throughout the wave of citizens. Some cheer. Some mourn. I watch a frail girl walk up to the podium and take Opus's hand. What a poor girl; her hands are still quivering. Tears begin to trail down her face, and somewhere else, a man yells.

"No! Not Velma! You Capitol bastards!" The peacekeepers push through the crowd and although I can't see anymore of what transpires, the sound of a gun shot answers my question. Velma looks as if she is going to collapse. Whatever relationship those two had, it was special. The Capitol had absolutely no right to take it away.

"Now for the boys!" continues Opus, completely disregarding the fact that a man just got shot. How can we be ruled by these monsters?

This is it. Someone else will get called, and I'll be able to go home. Just like the last two years. Everything will be alright. I smile to myself as I reassure my own survival. There is no way I can get called. No way.

Opus pulls out a slip. She unfolds it, slowly, building up the suspension. The boys near me cross their fingers. I do the same.

"Slate Amare!"

For once in my life, my smile falters.

* * *

**So guys, what did you think? If you're new, check out my other chapters! Read and review! I've only got 13 reviews as of the publication of this chapter, but much more follows/traffic views. I appreciate any feedback, even the shortest reviews inspire me! **

**-Until next time,**


	6. The Realist

_"If you tell the truth, you don't have to remember anything," _  
_-Mark Twain_

* * *

**Calico Tamarind, District Eight**

**The Realist**

**5.**

I stare at the corpse of the District Three female lying in a pool of blood on the factory belt. Looks like the Two boy got to her. Or perhaps this is the work of the Eleven boy? Nevertheless, that makes four of us left, including the boy from Eleven.

I look around the worn down machinery surrounding us. Curse the Gamemakers for such a closed Arena. If they are mad that fifteen tributes died in the first day, then they only have themselves to blame. I can remember the bloodbath quite well. I wish I didn't. I wish many things._  
_

I wish I didn't have to kill my district partner, but when he attacked me, I had no choice to fight back. It's kill or be killed, out here. Or _in _here.

I snap back into reality and look around. This location is too confined, and the last thing I want is for someone to come here and corner Orchid and me. Careful to avoid touching the body itself, I unstrap the deceased girl's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. Hopefully she has food or water. We're running awfully low on food rations.

I make my way back to our camp, climbing over crates and crawling in between gaps. Finally I come upon our hidden sanctuary, buried deep inside the storage area.

"Calico, we may actually make it to the final three!"

"Yeah, I suppose we do have a chance. But, there's something I think we both need to face," I reply.

"What's that?" inquires the girl from Seven.

I take a deep breathe and think about my next few words. As much as I want to comfort my partner, I can not lie; one, or both, of us _will _die. I don't want to kill any more people, but I know that I will have to if I ever want to see my Ma and Pa again.

I'll do whatever I have to do to win. Except lying. Lying disgusts me.

"Orchid, you know that I care about you as an ally and I value our alliance more than anything, right?"

"Yes, of course. We're allies. Allies stick together." I can tell by her nervous tone that she is expecting me to say something grave.

"Well, you need to realize that the two us might have to fight each other."

"Don't think like that! We'll both make it out of here alive. I promise!"

"Orchid, don't you understand? Only one of us comes out of these games alive. _One_!" I lash out at her.

The words hit her like bullets. She takes on a look of complete shock, still unable to comprehend the situation at hand.

"What about the boy from Two? Or the Eleven boy, he is-" I cut her off before she can finish rambling on.

"Last time I checked, Orchid, they are both still out there and capable of killing us."

"You must surely be lying, Calico. The others aren't going to kill us, are they? Please tell me you are lying."

"No, Orchid, I speak the truth. And sometimes, the truth hurts."

She curls up into a ball and begins to tear up. It hurt me to tell her that as much as it hurt her. But only realistic people can win these Games.

I lay down the backpack and rummage through its contents, only to find three empty bottles of water and a wrapper that once carried crackers.

This isn't good. I'm going to have to go look for food.

"I'm going to go look for food. Stay here," I inform my shell of a partner. She gives a slight nod as I grab my crossbow and sling it over my shoulder.

I travel throughout the factory for only ten minutes before I come upon a backpack sitting upright on a conveyor belt. So my

I approach the bag and open it. I realize my mistake a millisecond too late.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A bomb.

Crap.

I hurl the pack into the air, but it explodes in midair, throwing me against a crate with a heavy _thud_. Thousands of shrapnel shards flies throughout the air and I feel my skin pierced in several spots. Blood trickles down my forehead and my vision becomes blurred. In front of me, a fire lights up the factory, engulfing crates and everything in its reach.

A spark flies from the fire and grazes my cheek, leaving a nasty burn. I wince as I try to rise from the ground, but my legs tremble and I sink back down.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the girl from Eight. Looks like another easy kill." I raise my head and see the outline of a boy standing in front of the flames. The flames he created.

He slowly walks towards me, dragging his sword on the ground. As my vision begins to return, I recognize the boy as the one from Eleven. Since when were tributes from Eleven smart enough to build bombs? Apparently, now.

I frantically look around for my crossbow, and spot it a few meters away. Before I can reach for it, a foot pins my hand to the ground. I yelp out in pain and look up into the eyes of Eleven. Behind him, the fire burns on, encompassing the whole factory.

The boy grins at me and then raises his sword. I can't die now. My family needs me. Gasping for air, I gulp one last breathe and then close my eyes, waiting for the blade to hit its target.

Suddenly, I hear the sound of metal clanging on the ground and a scream of pain. A cannon blares. I open my eyes and find myself staring at the corpse of the Eleven boy with a knife impaled in his neck. However, what surprises me more is his killer.

"Orchid, you...saved me." I look up into her eyes and she gives me a warming smile.

"Once I heard the explosion and saw the fire, I rushed here as fast as I could."

"Wow, Orchid. You're brave, I'll give you that. Now, where is the boy from Two?"

Before she can answer, she is thrown to the ground.

"I'm right here!" He seems to be taking _pleasure_ in this. He pins down Orchid and begins to deliver blows to her face. She tries to shield her face but he is too strong. Bruises and blood become visible on her shattered face. I am forced to watch helplessly.

Wait, I have a crossbow. It is still where I left it. Mustering all of my strength, I crawl towards it, zoning out Orchid's screams in the background. This is it. This depends if I win or not.

I wrap my fingers around the handle and then aim it towards the Two boy.

He sees my move and then quickly yanks Orchid by the neck. He has her in a choke hold in a matter of seconds. There is no clear shot at him.

If I shoot him, I shoot Orchid.

"Please, Calico, don't-"

"Shut up! If you shoot, Eight, your partner dies too." His face contorts into a grin. Orchid's is of complete fear. I don't blame her. Behind them, the fire continues to rage on. The arena is slowly falling apart. The ceiling has begun to collapse in on itself. A large roof panel falls a few meters next to me, crushing numerous machines.

I could end it all here. I could shoot them both, and return home. Return to my family. Return to my _life__. _

Or I could do what is morally right. I could surrender. But then what? What then? He'll just kill us both.

There is only one right choice.

I raise my cross hair and aim it at Orchid's chest.

This will put her out of her misery. I am doing justice, or so I tell myself.

My finger wraps around the trigger. I take a look at the cross hair and hold still.

The Two boy smiles in confidence. He does not believe I will pull through.

I look once more at Orchid. I see in her eyes, mixed feelings of hate, sorrow, and disappointment.

I'm so sorry, Orchid.

I pull the trigger.

The arrow sails through the air.

Two's smile fades as he feels the arrow lodge itself into his heart.

Orchid's mouth trickles blood as she falls backwards with Two into the fire.

Two cannons.

Two more lives taken.

The tears rolling down my face are infinite.

* * *

**Well, it has been awfully long since my last update. Let me know what you guys thought! Read and review! And if you haven't done so already, check out the other chapters! **

**Until next update,**


End file.
